Wanting Vs Getting
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: Whumptober day 28: Nightmare. Danny wakes up from a nightmare in the hospital. Good thing his friends are there.


A/N: just a little one tonight, but some good Danny whump. Or, i think it's good at any rate. Not enough Danny whump out there in the world. Let me know what you think! warnings for: implied amputation; not graphic at all, nightmares, car accident.

Danny doesn't remember his nightmares, most of the time.

He just wakes up, coated in a layer of sweat, his heart pounding, and the very faint impressions of scales and fangs fading into the haze that clouded his mind.

Usually, he'd just get himself out of bed, and sneak into the kitchen for something to drink, before changing into something not damp and hiding away under the blankets again. He was grateful he'd never made a noise when waking up from his bad dreams.

The idea of Blake, or worse, Aunty Jean hearing him yelling like a kid about something that happened years ago would kill him with embarrassment.

Sometimes he did remember them.

Sometimes, he saw The Doc's car drive right past him on the side of the road, and he would try to call out, but there was no one left to hear him. Sometimes he just lay still and suffocated slowly as his throat swelled closed, and his vision would grey out to black, like the end of a movie.

But mostly, he didn't remember, and he liked to think that was for the better.

He preferred not to talk about the snake thing. He didn't want to be the one bringing the room down. He wanted to be the one who cracked a joke or told a funny story. There was more than enough bad in the world; he didn't want to be someone who walked under a cloud of it.

Sometimes, he didn't get a choice in the matter.

His attempt to sit up was blocked by something by his nose which forced him back onto the bed, a scream trying to force its way through his closing up throat. Just behind his eyelids, he can still see the desolate empty road ahead of him, and there's a crushing, searing agony in his left foot.

"Danny!" Someone is trying to shout above the noise of his screaming. "Danny! Peter, go get Doctor Harvey!"

He can't focus in on it, the words don't make sense, they filter into his head but then right out again before he can make any sense of it. His hands scrabble out, and they find cloth. A person? He's not alone, he isn't alone, he isn't going to die.

The person pulls him in tight and close, but it's an awkward angle, he's still mostly laying and the position is already hurting his shoulders.

"It's okay, Danny. You're okay. I've got you." A hand covers his, cool but not cold. Slowly, details of the world start to filter into his mind. The fabric he's been clutching at was fleece, and plaid printed. The thing stopping him from moving very far was a breath mask. He was in a hospital, and it was years and years since he got bit by that snake. The person who has come to his rescue is Charlie.

The pain in his foot won't leave, that must be real. It's a sort of all-encompassing agony. Why is he in agony? He's in a hospital, he should have been given something for it. Why haven't they? Unless he hasn't woken up from the nightmare, and he's still sleeping. Maybe he's still asleep somewhere, in a ditch? The pain in his leg ratchets up.

"Charlie, my foot -" He manages to grind out, "Why -"

"Amy, use that spare pillow to lift his leg and try to massage it."

Amy was here? His sister? Had there been room for anything inside of Danny's brain that wasn't burningcrushingpain then he might have been embarrassed. More embarrassed than he already was. One might even suggest ashamed.

"Like this?"

"Yes, keep doing that. Danny? Just focus on Amy, focus on her hands." Then, he shifts, "Peter! Where the Hell are you?!"

More things begin to return to him, Charlie was in hospital because of a head injury. He was driving to the outskirts of town to do an interview. There was a sighting of the Doc, and The Boss wanted Charlie to do it but he was in the hospital, so he sent Danny. The sensation of Amy touching his foot feels wrong like she won't touch his foot, just his ankle. Why won't she touch the part that's hurting? Charlie staggers under the weight of trying to hold him up.

"Breathe, Danny. Come on, breathe through it with me." He mutters, but Danny can't tell who he's muttering too. He tries to pull away, to see why he's in so much pain but Charlie won't let him. He keeps his grip firm, no matter the pain he must be in from Danny holding onto him like this. "No, don't look down there, just look at me and breathe, okay?"

He does that and tries to breathe in breaths like Charlie.

"I got her!"

"What's happening?" A tired voice asks, and he recognizes it as Doctor Harvey.

"I think he's having pain in his foot," Charlie replies like Danny is not there. He can't be bothered with feeling upset by it right this second, but the pain is beginning to dissipate. He could breathe now, the air felt like it was making it into his lungs.

"Sergeant Parks?" She asks, stepping closer to where he's keeping his white-knuckled grip on Charlie; it's proof that he's here, that he's not alone, that he won't die. He won't let go, and even if he wanted too he can't. "The pain you are feeling is not real. Just breathe, and try to calm down."

"Not real?!" He yelled, and it comes out as a screech, "It feels like my foot is being crushed under lava!"

"I know that, but you need to stay calm. Peter, get another pillow and give it to Amy." For a moment, a blessed moment, no one says anything. Then Amy begins to cry, it starts in small sniffs but is steadily getting worse. No matter how bad things are between them, she's his baby sister and he does not want her to see him like this. He wants to comfort her, to tell her that it's okay that it's going to be fine. Just like when they were kids, and Dad went out and didn't come back for a few days. But the thing is, he doesn't know if things are going to be okay, he doesn't even know why things are not right.

The pain is now at a level where he's pretty sure his brain won't melt out of his skull, and his breath seems to be normal enough for Charlie because, in one fluid movement, he's lying back down. Suddenly, and quite out of his control, a hand shot out and grabbed a hold of Charlie's shirt. He can see that there is an IV port in the back of his hand with tubes in it. Whatever is going in there is clear.

"It's okay." Charlie says, for the umpteenth time, "I'm here. We're all here. You're alright." He manages to look around the room, and Amy is standing close to the end of the bed, her hands up by her face. She has thick streaks of dark makeup down her face, implying to him that this is not the first time she's cried today but she also hasn't done anything to wipe away her tears. "Do you know where you are?"

"A hospital." He answers, quickly, "Why am I here, what happened?"

"You were in an accident, do you remember?" Doctor Harvey asked, slowly and carefully.

"No...Wait, yes, I think so. The car, it...Flipped?" It was coming back to him now, he was going maybe a little too fast on a dirt road, he lost control...He remembered a pain in his whole leg as he landed, and he remembered trying to use the radio to get help.

"It did." She said, slowly. "Are you feeling better?"

"What happened to my foot?" He asked, as she fiddled with the dial on the IV post by his bed.

"I don't know if we should have this conversation now." Charlie said, "It's the middle of the night."

"No, what happened to my foot?!" Danny demanded, and Amy burst out into a fresh round of tears. Charlie grimaced at the sound, and took her hand, putting Danny's into it. He felt a wave of sleepiness overcome him. He didn't want to sleep, he wanted to be awake. He didn't want Charlie to leave, but he wanted Amy to be somewhere else. Outside the window, he can hear the loudest storm he'd heard since he was a child slamming the window. He's so tired.

"Just rest for now. We'll talk in the morning." Charlie assured him, and suddenly, that seems like a good idea.


End file.
